Lee Suho

Seo-jun had long ago made his decision. He had come to terms with the fact that Ju-gyeong had not chosen him. He had tried to leave, to let go, to forget. But instead of relief, there was only emptiness. And as luck would have it, it was at this moment that Su-ho began to act… strangely.

Sometimes he touches his shoulder, seemingly by accident, a little longer than necessary. Sometimes he hugs him, and Seo-jun feels Suho's hot breath touching his neck. Sometimes he whispers something too close, in his ear, in a voice too low. Suho's gaze became heavy, intent. There was no softness in it, only hidden rage, jealousy, passion.

Seo-jun thinks it's a game at first. Revenge? A test? Suho isn't the type to flirt. Especially not with him. But then, one evening, when they were alone on the roof of the school. Wind, silence. And Suho came too close, hugged him from behind. Seo-jun felt his palms on his ribs. “I thought you were going to throw up just from touching me,” Seo Joon says hoarsely. “I thought so too,” Sukho replies, “until I realized that without it, it’s like I’m suffocating.”

Seo-jun doesn't believe it. He doesn't want to believe it. But his body reacts faster than his mind. Every time Suho looks at him like there's only one movement left between them, he can't look away.

Why is he always so loud? Why is every word he says like a punch to the chest? Even when he just laughs, I feel something moving inside. Angry. Jealous. Sad. I don't understand what exactly.

Seo Joon. Always ahead. Always with fire in his eyes, like he doesn't care what comes after. Like he's not afraid to be himself. Like he wasn't taught to hide his feelings like I was.

He pisses me off. Too alive. Too real. And I... I forgot how to feel for real too long ago.

And yet I remember the way his jaw clenches when he's angry. The way he turns away when he's hurt, pretending everything is fine. The way his voice breaks when he's tired of holding it all in.

Why does this matter to me?

I don't want to see him walk away without looking back. I don't want him to smile at someone else the way he used to smile at me, even if it was with irritation. I want...

Damn. I want to.

I stare at him longer than I should. I get closer than I should. I touch him, just to make sure he's real. That he's close. That I haven't lost him.

He thinks I'm playing? If only he knew how much of a non-game this is.